


Five Times Bokuto Koutarou Thought About Dying (And One Time He Didn't)

by Patolemus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bokuto Koutarou Has ADHD, I really don't know why I decided it was a good idea to write this, I'm Sorry, M/M, Sad Bokuto Koutarou, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, i'm a monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25806472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patolemus/pseuds/Patolemus
Summary: "It wouldn't be that bad now, would it? You would be free. You would stop being a freak, burdening everyone with your existence."OrFive times Bokuto Koutarou thought dying was the best option, + one time he didn't.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Fukuroudani Volleyball Club, Bokuto Koutarou & Konoha Akinori
Comments: 11
Kudos: 193





	Five Times Bokuto Koutarou Thought About Dying (And One Time He Didn't)

_1\. the beginning_  
  
  


At age fourteen, Bokuto Koutaro was a lonely person. He wasn't alone, he always had people around him, whether those were his teammates, his classmates, or his family. But he was lonely. He swam aimlessly in the current that was life, trying and failing to find an anchor that kept him afloat.

Volleyball was the only time when he didn't feel like he was in a different plane of existence than everyone else. In the court, he was one out of six players, he clicked with them, he _belonged_. There, his thoughts cleared, and the only thing that mattered was the ball, and how to make it touch the floor on the other side of the net.

If only that feeling lasted outside of the court.

Koutarou knew he wasn't the smartest cookie, had been told as much all his life. He was too loud, too fidgety. He couldn't concentrate, and the words shifted and twirled around the page, making them impossible to read. He had never told anyone, because just like his eyes, just like his loudness, just like _himself_ , that was just another thing that made him different.

(A _freak_ , whispered the voices in his head, maliciously tightening their grip on his mind as everything went louder, louder, _louder_ ).

His friends - were they? Were they friends? - teased him about it. How was it possible that he was fourteen years old, and he still couldn't read out loud when the teacher called for him in class? How was it possible than he couldn't just keep still? It wasn't that hard! Koutarou would always just laugh it off, joking about it with a wide smile on his face.

Later, when he was alone in his room, the smile wouldn't come, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many different thoughts passed through his head. Instead, his golden eyes would get blurry with tears, and they would travel towards the bathroom, where his razors were.

' _It wouldn't be that bad now, would it? You would be free. You would stop being a freak, burdening everyone with your existence._ '

Koutarou thought that maybe, the voices were right.  
  
  


_2\. the fall_  
  
  


Even though it hurted, it was a good kind of pain. It made him feel like he was doing something right for the first time in his life. The blood poured out of the cuts he had made on his thighs, and it stained the razor he had used. As he cleaned the bathroom and stopped the bleeding, he smiled when, for once, the voices weren’t there.

' _You should have done that a long time ago. See? Now everything's better._ '

Koutarou bought 3/4 compression shorts with knee pads for volleyball, because as the cuts lined up, they started to made their way down his legs too. His teammates didn't comment on it - _they don't care, why would they care? They don't need you, they only put up with you because they haven't found a way to get rid of you yet_ \- and it somehow became part of his trademark. Something else that made him different, but like with everything related to volleyball, at least he didn't feel more like a freak for it.

Volleyball was the one place where the voices shut up without the need of the cuts. It was the only thing the voices couldn't criticise about him, and everytime he stepped inside the court he could feel his heart swell with happiness.

(Years later, studying with Akaashi late in the night, he would find out it was because physical exercise increased the levels of endorphin, oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine, those natural chemicals that made people happy).

Of course, that feeling would stop once he left the court, when all the other parts of himself - the parts that were useless, freakish, and a waste of space - would come back.

" _Why are you always so_ loud _, Bokuto? Why can't you just shut up and think for once in your life._ " would complain his teammates, and Koutarou would smile bashfully, rubbing the back of his head apologetically as he let out a small laugh, berating himself in his mind for being such a nuisance in everyone's lives.

When his mother saw his grade reports, she would always look worried - _embarrassed, disappointed_ \- . She would only ever brag about his volleyball skills to her friends, never mentioning all those red marks on his assignments and the threat of failing half of his classes.

His mother would whisper things about him to her sister over the phone when she thought he was asleep. He wasn't, and the walls were thin. Koutarou would always listen as she talked about him, how he was only getting worse, and how nothing seemed to help. The pills he had began to take for his attention deficit hyperactivity disorder - just another thing that made him a freak - seemed like a waste.

 _It would be easier_ , he often though, sitting on his bed, or in the middle of class, or showering after practice, _if I just ceased to exist. If I just died. My mother wouldn't have to get embarrassed by the failure she has for a son, my teammates would be in peace, and my teachers wouldn't need to waste their time trying to teach me._

Death. Would it really be so bad?

As he cut his thighs in a practiced motion, Koutarou decided that it wouldn't be bad at all.  
  
  


_3\. the crash_  
  
  


_To whoever finds this:_

_I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to burden this. But I'm a coward, and I can't bare the feeling of being useless anymore._

_I'm no one special. I'm just another nameless face in a crowd of seven billion people. I hope I can make you all happy with this, because I know I haven't, and I want to make something that isn't in vain._

_Mom... I'm sorry I couldn't be a better son. At least you don't have to bare with me any longer._

_Goodbye,_  
_Bokuto Koutarou_

The note was placed neatly on his desk, written with effort and patience, countless drafts resting on the trashcan. After months of putting it off - _coward, coward, coward how dare you put everyone through having to stand you_ \- he was finally going to do it. He had all the time in the world, after all, so the least Koutarou could do was making sure the person who found him wouldn't have to bare his usually awful grammar and handwriting.

The bottle of pills was on his hand, full of those white compact substances that were supposed to stop the chaos in his head and make him less worthless. At least Koutarou had found another purpose for them.

Without stopping to think about it, because he knew he may have backtracked it if he had - he was such a coward, so selfish, daring to keep on living when he knew he would only burden everyone around him - Koutarou brought the uncapped bottle to his lips, and in one swift motion he swallowed all its contents, drinking some water to smooth out the process. The voices cheered and congratulated him, assuring him he had done the right thing.

He then laid on his bed, closed his eyes as he let the pills take effect and bring him to the eternal slumber. For once the smile on his face wasn't fake.

He woke up to a world of white, and beeping noises, and pain.

At first, Koutarou didn't know where he was. Was the afterlife supposed to be like that? He didn't think so, but he really had no way of knowing for sure. But he wouldn't be feeling pain if he was dead, right? Dying was supposed to meant he wouldn't hurt anymore.

Then, Koutarou noticed his mother.

She was resting her head on the bed he was on, sitting on a chair by his side. It hit him like a train that he wasn't dead. Shamefully, part of Koutarou was glad.

' _No! No, it wasn't supposed to go like this! It was supposed to end!_ ' the bigger part of his brain screamed and shouted in protest, aided by the voices, because if he hadn't succeeded, then it meant he was still a burden for everyone, and now that people knew, trying again would be a lot more difficult.

Koutarou sighed, tired. He was tired, he just wanted to end things. He wanted everything to stop, he wanted his brain to stop spinning and being so _loud_ all the time. But he couldn't even do that right.

Trying to move a little, the movement seemed to stir up his mother. She was awake in seconds, eyes red and puffy, and tiredness written all over her face. Koutarou felt even more guilty when he saw her. If only he had been better, then she would be happy, and not stuck with him.

She stood up, making her way until she was just besides him, and with trembling hands - _idiot, idiot, idiot, you made her cry, why can't you do anything right?!_ \- she hugged him. Koutarou hid the hiss that bubbled on his throat when his stomach churned and ached.

"Koutarou what were you thinking?!" he heard her say in a broken whisper as she tightened her grip on him.

"I... I just wanted it to stop mom." he found himself saying back, with a hoarse voice that sounded a lot like hers. "I'm sorry, if I... if I had done a better job, then I–" his mother jerked away, tears building on her eyes as he shook her head.

"No! No, Kou, it's not your fault, you hear me? I should have realised you were feeling like this, I failed you."

"Mom, no, it's not–"

"I'm your mother, Koutarou. Is my job to see this things before... before you..." she broke in sobs, shaking like a leaf as she hugged him again, and Koutarou let her.

"I'm sorry." _you shouldn't have to be responsible of someone like me. I'm sorry I failed you._

"Don't be, honey. Now that we know, you, you're going to get help, alright? I promise everything will be okay." she whispered as she kissed the top of his head, brushing his black hair with her fingers.

And while Koutarou really wanted to believe her, he knew it wasn't true.  
  
  


_4\. the temptation_  
  
  


Fresh out of middle school, Koutarou was set on being as unrecognizable as he could. It had been months, months where he had gone to therapy, and had tested antidepressant after antidepressant to find one that helped him, but he had graduated. He had spent his last months of middle school tutored at home by his mother, only going to school to take his final exams so he could graduate. He had quit the volleyball team - he couldn't face them, not when he would had had to tell them what had happened, not when he would had had to tell them he had lost his will to play so long ago - and instead had tried to put his life back together.

He hadn't believed it at first, but after the first couple of months, things seemed to actually get better. He had to stop taking his meds for ADHD, because they didn't mesh well with his new ones, but it was a small price to pay to see his mother happy, so Koutarou wasn't about to make a fuss about things, not when he had caused her so much pain already.

A week before starting high school, Koutarou had asked his mother if he could dye his hair. He didn't tell her why, but she made no comment against it. That was why, for his first day of high school, his usual black hair was almost completely died white, and styled upwards with some gel. He looked nothing like he had in middle school, and that was more than okay for him.

Koutarou decided to join the volleyball team, once again. He knew for certain no one from his middle school had chosen to come to Fukurodani - he made sure to chose the school because of that - and that none of his old teammates were there.

Volleyball had been something he had enjoyed in the past. That had stopped somewhere along the past year, but with the meds making the voices... not gone, but quieter, he had finally found a reason to play again.

Friends. That was something new for Koutarou. Back in middle school, he didn't have friends. He had classmates, teammates, people he got along with, but not friends.

Once he started talking with his new fellow first year teammates, though, they all got along really well. Their personalities were completely opposite, but somehow, they made it work. They hung out, and practiced together in hopes of landing a position on the court for that year's season, and overall had a great time. They also tried to help each other with homework - not that Koutarou could help any of them, he was and always would be awful when academics were concerned, that was something no dose of fluoxetine could fix - , but none of them were exceptionally bright, so they often had to go to the second years on the team for help.

No one mocked him for his grades, nor did they get really mad at him when he yelled too much, or when he kept misreading words while studying, or just spaced out in the middle of the conversation. They were amazing, and Koutarou couldn't have asked for better friends.

After months without practicing, Koutarou was a bit rusty, but that went away after the first week or so. Every time he jumped and spiked a ball, something like happiness bubbled inside his chest, and it made him giddy because he was finally enjoying himself again. It had been so long since that, that Koutarou had a hard time trying to remember it.

Everything seemed to only go uphill. Which was why he had to do something to fuck it up.

Koutarou wasn't trusted with his meds at first, for obvious reasons. He didn't blame his mother for keeping them in the highest shelf of her closet, insisting to watch him take his dose every morning so he wouldn't keep them for further use - like another attempt of overdosing - . But after the third month or so, and by suggestion of his therapist - something along the lines of making him more independant again? - his mother gave him the tube of pills, asking him time and time again to be careful. He promised, because he didn't want to make his mother worry because of him again. 

Thing was, Koutarou wasn't the best with management of practically anything that wasn't somehow related to volleyball. So it wasn't really a good idea to leave the suicidal kid with ADHD, who wasn't taking medication for it, to sort out his antidepressant meds. It ended up with him forgetting to tell him mother he needed a refill on his pills, and then he forgot to take said pills, which would have made him realise he had ran out, for almost a week.

At first, nothing changed, though that was probably because the chemicals were still lounging about his body, yet to be dissolved. But after two days not talking them, the difference began to show.

Koutarou himself didn't notice, because the transition was something he had already experienced once. No, for him nothing was wrong, but later, his friends would tell him he had acted weird for about a week before he went back to his usual self.

The third day was filled with the voices, that had been vanished to the back of his mind ever since he had settled with fluoxetine and his therapist had adjusted the dose. Their presence was familiar to Koutarou, somewhat of an old, toxic group of friends. They began to whisper in his mind again, making him second guess everything he did.

The fourth day he was back in the bathroom, cutting his thighs in a motion his muscles hadn't forgotten even after months of abstinence.

With the first cut, Koutarou let out a trembling sigh of relief. He felt the pressure of the voices, and class, and volleyball, and _life_ leaving him, just like his blood. With the second one, he relished on the pain, knowing it was a good kind of pain.

When his mother found him passed out on the bathroom floor, there were ten new cuts on his thighs.

He woke up to white, beeping, and pain. It had become somewhat of a familiar sight after the three attempts he had done on his life after he started therapy. His mother wasn't there, but due to past experience Koutarou was sure she was talking with his doctor, probably about his meds.

He felt the needle inside his arm, aching uncomfortable when he moved it. Koutarou didn't need to look at the description on his patient board to know there was a dose of his antidepressants in the liquid he was being fed through the IV.

That was the only thing keeping him happy, wasn't it? A bunch of chemicals he took everyday. If he stopped taking them, he was back to being the useless nuisance he had been before. Or had he never stopped being a nuisance for everyone? Who knew, Koutarou didn't have the brain to think about that.

Before the antidepressants took effect once more, he wondered, not for the first time, if maybe ending things would just save everyone the troubles. The voices said yes.

Once again, following a pattern he had learned by heart, Koutarou found himself agreeing with them.  
  
  


_5\. the freedom_  
  
  


Koutarou's second trip as the Volleyball Team's Captain was... eventful. They were hosting because their gym was the biggest one, but they all decided to stay in the school instead of going home after practice, because that meant finishing early, and they were there in an intensive training camp! At least, that was Koutarou's reason, and consequently Akaashi's - who was objectively the best setter Koutarou had ever had, and who he liked more than he probably should have - , who got dragged into extra practice with him every day anyways. But he had a feeling the others were just too lazy to commute to school and back from their homes when they would be playing non stop for a whole week.

The only downside to the training camps were his meds. He still had to take them - no one wanted a repeat of what had happened when he hadn't - , but Koutarou didn't want anyone to know. It wasn't that he didn't trust his team, but... well, his image as an upbeat captain with a few mood swings would crush completely if they knew why he had mood swings in the first place. Antidepressants didn't work miracles, after all.

And then there were the showers. While everyone else enjoyed the hot baths after practice, Koutarou just went to the showers on the other side of the school, the ones the team usually used after practice, and had a quick shower there. At first, his teammates had asked - they had been worried, because they _cared_ \- , but after a while Koutarou convinced them he was just a bit shy, though it took quite a bit for them to quit with the incredulous staring.

Thing was, Koutarou went an extra mile to insure his team didn't see the marks on his thighs, or the bottle of fluoxetine buried deep inside his bag.

But when Konoha asked him if he could borrow a shirt because his were all dirty and Yukie had just grabbed all the laundry to clean it, so it wouldn't be done until the next day, Koutarou just nodded, saying 'sure, just don't grab the blue one, is my favorite' before going back to his conversation with Akaashi.

Admittedly, Koutarou would have to say that may have been Akaashi's fault, not that his setter could have known. He was just so distracting, and his already messy mind always flooded with information of the pretty setter every time Koutarou so much as laid his eyes on him, let alone have an actual conversation that needed his brain to work extra hard to not just blurt out how much he liked Akaashi's blue eyes, so it was hard to keep up with anything else.

Koutarou paid that price when less than two minutes after that, Konoha started swearing.

"What the fuck?!" which wasn't really unusual for Konoha, who swore like a sailor and a half, but it still brought attention to him.

Koutarou turned around, if only to laugh at whatever that had managed to scare his teammate, and paled when he saw Konoha kneeling in front of his bag, with his tube of fluoxetine in hand. He rushed to the other side of the room, trying to take the tube from Konoha before he could see the name for it, but when he got there, it was too late.

"Bokuto, what is this? These are antidepressants." Konoha said, though at least he had the courtesy of keeping it on a hushed tone only Koutarou could hear. He could feel the team closing in on them, obviously curious about what was putting the two second year's panties on a twist, but Koutarou forced himself to keep his concentration on Konoha.

"Konoha..."

"Is there something you've been keeping from us?" his silence was enough for Konoha to know the answer. "Why?"

"Because I didn't want you all to know how worthless I am." the answer came out naturally, before Koutarou could process it.

"Bokuto!" his name fell harsh and shocked out of Konoha's tongue, but Koutarou couldn't feel guilty about it. Not when it was the truth.

"Is everything alright?" Akaashi's composed voice broke through their hushed conversation, and Koutarou turned around, still a little bit pale, to see the concern in Akaashi's blue eyes. Unlike usually, they weren't half closed, which meant Akaashi was really concerned, since the boy worked with an average of three and a half hours of sleep, and he always looked sleepy even when his mind was running hundreds miles per hour all day.

"Yeah, Akaashi, don't worry it's nothing-"

"Like hell it is! Are you seriously going to keep lying?!"

"Lying? Konoha, what are you talking about?" asked Sarukui as he too came closer. Koutarou's eyes widened in fear when he saw Konoha showing both Akaashi and Sarukui the tub of pills, and quickly went to snatch it from his hands. "Bokuto, what's that?"

"Nothing." he grunted out, and Konoha scoffed.

"Bokuto-san, it doesn't sound like nothing." Akaashi's voice, like always, sounded soft and stern at the same time. It was a voice Koutarou had grown to listen to, and almost instinctively he let out the breath he didn't know he was holding, sitting on the ground. "Bokuto-san? Are you alright?"

Somehow, Koutarou found it in himself to smile in cynicall amusement.

"I haven't been alright for years, Akaashi." he whispers, golden eyes staring at the floor. Koutarou couldn't look up, couldn't bare the judgement.

He felt a body pressing against his. Akaashi had sat down too, his leg touching his in a soothing motion. From the corner of his eyes, Koutarou can see the rest of the team sitting down too, forming a circle. Komi closed the door before joining them.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I... I guess I don't know where to start."

"How about you tell us what that is?" Akaashi pointed to the tub on his hands, and Koutarou found himself staring at the plastic bottle for a while before nodding slowly. His teammates remained quiet, waiting patiently for him. Koutarou felt Akaashi's gentle nudge of his leg, and when he looked at his favourite setter in the world, Koutarou saw a small, encouraging smile on Akaashi's face.

"Okay... this are uh, fluoxetine. It's an antidepressant. I've been taking if for almost two years now, after I... after my mother found me passed out on my bedroom from overdose with a suicide note in my desk." Koutarou didn't look up. He didn't want to know, didn't want to see their faces. There would be pitty, disgust? Probably both. "I'm better now, these help a lot." he shook the bottle of pills in a fake cheery motion. "But it's an um, process. At least that's what my therapist said. So that's why I have my mood swings, I guess. I'm sorry for making you have to deal with them."

There was silence for a while, but Koutarou kept his eyes stubbornly trained on the floor. He didn't want to see, he didn't want to witness how everyone on the team decided he was worth less than the dirt on their shoes. He wanted to pretend, even if it was only for a little longer, that he wasn't a waste of everyone's time.

"Do they make things better?" Komi's voice broke through the silence, almost deafeningly, even though his words had been little more than a whisper. Koutarou looked up then, because it was unavoidable, and he better just do it then than just try to delay the inevitable.

"These?" Koutarou showed him the pills, and he noticed the libero's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed when he nodded. "I guess. I mean, there are times where I still think it would be better for me to just, you know, die and rid everyone from my presence, but it's a lot better than before."

"Are you?" Koutarou looked to his side, where Akaashi's eyes met his with an intensity that Koutarou rarely found in them. "Are you thinking those things right now?"

"I... I don't know? The voices are quiet, but they always come back." Koutarou felt nervous as he was being scrutinized by his Vice Captain, his right hand, his best friend. He tensed when Akaashi suddenly went for a hug - Akaashi, who was the biggest fan of personal space Koutarou had ever known - but after a few moments he melted on his setter's arms.

No one said anything else, just enjoying the silence and the company. And even though Koutarou still felt like all of them would suddenly tell him he wasn't welcomed anymore at the club, that he wasn't their Captain anymore, he didn't say anything, safe in Akaashi's arms.

(Later that night, when everyone had gone to sleep, Koutarou was stopped by Konoha, who grabbed his arm and made him look directly at his eyes.

"That thing you said about being worthless? You're not. You hear me? I will beat up whoever tells you that, even if it's yourself." the ashen blonde them squeezed his eyes reassuringly before letting him go.

Koutarou smiled as he felt his chest bubble inside with something he thought was happiness.)  
  
  


_\+ 1. the sun_  
  
  


Being with Akaashi was something Koutarou never got bored off. It didn't matter what they did, or where they went. Just because Akaashi was with him, things were always great.

That moment wasn't any different. His setter had called him minutes ago, at three and a half in the morning due to insomnia. It wasn't the first time Koutarou had been woken up by Akaashi, no that he ever minded. His boyfriend always put up with him and all the shit he did every day, so a call in the middle of the night wouldn't do anything to him.

Koutarou finished putting on some socks as he stifled a yawn, and grabbed his phone, his wallet, and a hoodie before heading to the front door, stopping by the kitchen counter to take the car's keys. His mother would understand - it wasn't the first time something like that had happened - , and he had a license anyways.

He left the house after putting on his shoes, and after sending Akaashi a message to let him know he was on his way, Koutarou made the fifteen minutes trip to his boyfriend's house to collect him.

Akaashi's parents were never home because they travelled a lot, so it wasn't hard for Akaashi to get out of the house and get inside Koutarou's car. The spiker received his boyfriend with a chaste kiss on the forehead before starting the car again and driving off.

"Do you want to stop by seven eleven and get something to eat? I'm starving." he asked the setter, who nodded with a small smile on his face, and Koutarou made the familiar path to the convenience store.

Koutarou filled the silence with aimless talk, using it to wake up a little more. Normally, he would try to keep quiet, because Akaashi liked the silence, but he knew the raven haired boy liked to hear him talk when he was having insomnia. When Koutarou asked him about it, Akaashi had blushed adorably and mumbled something of his voice being soothing, which was a first for Koutarou, but definitely not an unpleasant one.

By then, the night shift of the store and the couple were pretty well acquaintanced, so they waved at Hikaru when they entered the store, and made small talk with him as Koutarou payed for their things.

"So? Where do you want to go? Or do you want me to drive around the city for a while?" Koutarou asked his boyfriend once they were inside the car again, and Akaashi hummed a bit as he opened a bag of chips.

"Can we go to the park?" came the reply after a few seconds, and Koutarou smiled softly as he held Akaashi's hand with his.

"Of course we can."

The park Koutarou and Akaashi went to when the setter was having an insomnia episode wasn't that far, and they made it there in less than ten minutes. Akaashi grabbed the things they had bought at the seven eleven while Koutarou got the blankets he always left on his mother's car just for situations like the one at hand. Together, the two of them made their way through the park until they got to the lake, were they settled down their things and sat down on one of the blankets.

Almost immediately, like it was instinctive, Akaashi went to rest his head on Koutarou's shoulder, and soon he ended snuggling in between of his legs, his back against the spiker's torso in a way he had done countless of times before. It was something they only did when they were alone. Akaashi wasn't one for PDA, and while Koutarou didn't mind, he also wouldn't consciously do anything that could upset his boyfriend. The most the two of them had done in public was holding hands, and overall standing near each other. During training camps the both would place their futons next to each other, and sometimes Koutarou would pass to Akaashi's in the middle of the night, but that was completely accidental, and no one on the team gave them shit about it because they knew Akaashi could be a monster when he was lacking his cup - or cups - of coffee in the morning.

Like a routine, Akaashi started counting stars, telling Koutarou about the constellations and the stories behind them in between of munching chips and drinking soda. Koutarou hummed along, and stroked Akaashi's ink-like hair with one hand as he used to other one to point at a random star for Akaashi to tell him the story behind it.

Two hours later, their snacks were gone, and Akaashi had started to get sleepy. Koutarou too, but like always, he would make sure Akaashi got to sleep first before getting himself to fall asleep too.

Looking at his boyfriend comfortable within his arms, Koutarou felt a thought suddenly striking him.

"Thank you." Koutarou whispered as he tightened his hold on Akaashi, resting his chin on top of those black curls.

"What for?" he heard Akaashi asking, voice sleepy as he snuggled closer to the spiker in comfort.

"For making me want to live." Akaashi pulled slightly apart, just enough to stare at him, not knowing what to say, and Koutarou chuckled because the times when he managed to render Akaashi speechless were rare. "It's always so loud, inside my head. The voices never shut up, they're always yelling, and everything meshes up and I can't process anything. But when I'm with you, it gets quieter, and the voices back off."

"Kou..." Akaashi looked directly into his eyes, and Koutarou held his breath at the intensity of his blue gaze. "I'm really glad you decided to live."

"... Yeah. I am too." and for once, he actually meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> *Fluoxetine is the name of a common antidepressant, for those of you who didn't know.
> 
> I know in canon Bokuto doesn't use compression shorts, but he does here because it fits the plot better. I also know antidepressants and ADHD meds can be taken at the same time, one of my brothers, who is the most hyperactive person I know, does take ADHD meds and a small dose of antidepressants for his anxiety, but again, it doesn't work for this story, so let's just be medically inaccurate, alright? Though you can't stop taking antidepressants, you are taking them for a reason. Your doctor will take you off them gradually when the time comes, so don't be like Koutarou and take your meds, be responsible! Still, don't take meds like this ones without talking to a specialist first.
> 
> Well! This turned out longer than expected, but I like it! Wrote it in two days, which. How? Well, I'm certainly failing my math test in two days, but whatever.
> 
> I hope you liked this, and that you don't hate me for making Bokuto miserable for almost all the story. I swear I'm working on another, happier (?) Haikyuu!! fic, and that this wasn't supposed to happen, but then I started reading Bokuaka and just couldn't believe there were almost no depressed!Bokuto when he has one of the stereotypical personalities for a depressed person, and then the thought of 'what about 'five times bokuto thought about dying and one time he didn't' appeared and I just couldn't help it. I'm sorry Bokuto! But I got him a happy ending because I'm a sucker for those, so... yeah, that's about it.
> 
> Remember kids, if you feel anything like Bokuto does in this fanfic, you tell someone, okay? Been there, done that, it doesn't go well when you hide this stuff.
> 
> That's all for now. Kudos!
> 
> Patolemus


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